Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Partials

I don't think much about how poetry comes to me. It just shows up. I feel lucky if I have a pen handy. Nothing worse than getting the first line and not having anywhere to write it down so the rest can come too. Once in awhile, though, the first few lines come and then . . . nothing. It doesn't finish itself. Thought I would share a few partials that haven't formed themselves into anything (yet).

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Hope is like the oceanwide and rollingeven when we cannot see

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I need either more pain or lessor someone to make me feellike I felt with youafire and gasping,like new chemicals

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Maybe I can sweep itinto that pile ofromantic notionsleft dusty on the floor